the cross and the cosmos - issue 15

8/12/2019 The Cross and the Cosmos - Issue 15

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Embers, Part Twoby Johanan Rakkav

Overhaulby Josh Strnad

Animal Heavenby Frank Creed

This issue:

Edited by GL Francis

and Glyn Shull

Artwork credits inside

April, 2013 / Issue 1


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Introduction

by Glyn Shull

Embers, Part Two

by Johanan Rakkav

Overhaul

by Josh Strnad

Animal Heaven

by Frank Creed

pg 2

pg 3

pg 16

pg 20

Cover image courtesy of NASA. Image credit: ESA/PACS & SPIRE

consortia, A. Rivera-Ingraham & P.G. Martin, Univ. Toronto,HOBYS Key Programme (F. Motte)

Table of Contents


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Greetings!

Have we got an exciting line up this issue! We start out with part two of Embersby Johanan

Rakkav. This hard hitting tale of His faithfulness and love will leave you begging for the next one in the

series. Next up is a newcomer to TC2: Josh Strnad. His work, OverHaultackles the very real issue of the

heart of man, and will leave you thinking about what is to come. The final story in this quarter's line up is

from Frank Creed. I have to warn all of you: do not read this story if having a good cry will disturb your

emotional health. I am deadly serious about this. I had to stop in the middle and wait a few days to let mytears stop, but the ending is, believe me, well worth it!

As you read through, you may notice an odd page with no story in it. Instead, it has an odd little

graphic with some funny words. Interesting. Yes, it's an ad, and I am excited beyond words to tell you

about it. Coming on May 15th, 2013, is GL Francis' The Kamanthian Chronicles:: Catalystica! The

harrowing tale culminates in the Doker of the Dragon Lair, published in April 2012. This fantastic

journey will take you deep into the Kamanthian world where a father seeks his son as well as revenge for

a devastated life, where a mother from another world searches for her daughter, where eternal choices are

made in the fabled Lair of Beasts.

Also out in May, 2013 is Frank Luke's Rebirths! This intense collection of stories chronicles the

journey of one of God's own: a prophet. But even a prophet has his breaking point, and Derke has certainly

been pushed over it: the sudden loss of his wife and children while he looked on, helpless despite praying

just as he had before with no answer. Crushing sadness was followed by the arrival of one who seemed to

have all the answers and, more importantly, had hope. Follow him through his walk on the dark side and

ask yourself: can even a loving God redeem someone who has gone so far into the abyss? Find out in May

2013!

In closing, if you haven't already, like us on FaceBook for updates and trivia. You can find us at:

http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Cross-and-The-Cosmos

God Bless you all!

Glyn Shull

Founding Editor - TC2


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EMBERS

By Johanan Rakkav

Part Two

It took only a moment for two Daimonae to teleport Aqrav Hadrurus to where the Undying Singer

lay unconscious in the grass. With the aid of a palm lamp in his left hand, he picked up Alains Starblade

and inserted it into its scabbard on Alains back with the exaggerated care of a man defusing a sensitivebomb mechanism. Aqrav reserved the task for himself with reason. Even unlit, a Lightchilds Starblade

could mortally wound a Shadow Creature, including a Daimon, or leave a nasty cut on a second-

generation Archon like Aqrav.

All right,the Archon told his assistants.Take this Lightchild to the Warbird.He meant the FSSRealm of Earth and Sky, parked many light-years away near the default-opening place of an otherspacePocket dating from long before the Locust Plague War.

We should disarm him first as planned,said one of the Daimonae with a hiss.

Are youmad? Aqrav replied in a low, hard voice. Cant you feel the power coming from histools? I hoped it would be otherwise, but theres no way we can remove anything hes wearing withoutwaking him up, and we could die to the last man Jack trying.

Then we cannot lock away his tools in another Pocket?asked the other Daimon.

No. Where he goes, they must go, even his Sentry. If we leave Raphael Goldwing out here innormal space, theres always a slight chance his Bondmate can escape his prison through Raphael. Wecant take eventhatrisk.

I do not understand,said the second Daimon. If they are separate

Look. As long as this man doesnt rebel against his Lords Covenant, we can only lock him awaywe cant strip him of his Gifts or his tools. Aqrav scowled. People have tried to get around the way hesconnected to his tools before, and they only made it worse for themselves in the long run. I hoped trappinghim in his own Shadow would help us get around that problem, but it hasnt. No, he and his Sentry gotogether no matter what.

Then even in our victory, there is a danger.

From your mouth to the Dragons ears. Even Nicholas couldnt get the upper hand over thisparticularLightchild for areason. Theres somethingdifferentabout him compared to the others,

somethingspecial. Ive thought about how to deal with him for a long, long time. The sooner we finishwhat I came up with, the better.

Aqrav gestured, and the first Daimon stooped to pick up the Lightchild, but the white aurasurrounding the prone figure warded the Daimon off. The same thing happened when the second Daimontried to pick up the Sentry. Back off, Aqrav snapped. This isnt going to work and yet we dare not try toteleport him withoutsomethingholding him.

Then what are we to do?asked the first and commanding Daimon. When Daimonae traveled inpairs, one always commanded the other. Aqrav could respect that. He found it harder to respect theirrelative lack of intelligence they werent the brightest stars in the galaxy of Shadow Creatures.

Dont worry, Ive got a backup plan well get two of my Null to carry him and his Sentry. Theyshould be able to do so safely, so long as they dont tamper with anything.


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We can bring some here if you wish

No, I might as well have my old bird handy and ready to go when were done. Aqrav pulled acommunicator from his utility belt and called a Raptor from its base in Freeland.

When the FSSTenkillers Pridelanded, two Nulls walked toward the place where Aqrav stood.One picked up the Lightchild easily and without harm to himself the other picked up Alains Sentry withone huge hand.

Now, Aqrav instructed the Daimonae, teleport us all to the Warbird.

We will need two more of our kind,said the Daimon leader.

Aqrav rolled his eyes. Thensummonthem! Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep thisLightchild unconscious?Moveit!

The Daimon commander moved it. A few vile mutterings brought two more of the long-limbed,

black-furred bat-men, and together they winked across the light-years to the spacious interior of the

Warbird.

Follow me,

said Aqrav as he headed rearward toward the engineering section.

Not far forward of the control room for the dual matrix drives was a horizontal metal cylinder with

high-tech and hyper-tech devices linked to it. The cylinder had a lid which could be opened on sturdy

hinges and which was partly transparent. Aqrav ordered the Null carrying Alain to lay him in the tube. The

other put Alains inert Sentry beside him, but not near either of his palms. The interior of the tube

cushioned Alains body perfectly, scabbard and all. He looked to be in a deep and peaceful sleep.

Dont be deceived by appearances,said Aqrav, anticipating the thoughts of his companions.Hes in more torment than I dare take the time to describe.Quickly the Archon shut, sealed, activatedand checked the status of the tube. There! Once this Warbird is inside the Pocket and integrated with its

surface, the Warbird and this chamber will self-renew and self-repair until the star fueling the Pocketfinally diesand beyond. This man may experience a few days meanwhile, or he may experiencemillennia, but hell befuddle himself in endless dark dreams without direct help from me. Lets get to thebridge.

A short wink brought them all to the enormous bridge. Once there, Aqrav activated the automatic

sequence to trigger the opening of the Passage and the landing of the Warbird within the Pocket. All

right, lets get back to the Raptor,he commanded.

The transition back to Aetalnor was smooth and instantaneous, and afterward, there was only the

waiting. As soon as the distant Pocket swallowed the Warbird, Aqrav breathed out hard, bent over double

and put both hands to his head.

Dragons beards!He added a string of colorful invectives in Ersatz, an interstellar pidgin filledwith such terms. Even with the Lightchilds link with the White Hand compromised, its Gift of Lightnearly overwhelmed me.Twice.

Are you functional?asked the commanding Null.

The Scorpion braced his hands on his thighs he inhaled deeply, repeatedly, steadying himself,

before standing erect. At eight feet nine inches in his preferred default form, he towered over his seven-

foot companions, the lanky Daimonae and the well-proportioned Null. He was dressed in the typicalclothing of a mercenary from the Rim Confederacy: tan shirt, khaki pants and boots, and utility belt. He

wore no weapons at the moment for this task, they were superfluous.


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I am nowno thanks to that triple-cursed Nefi of a Lightchild. Who knew such a man couldever gain such ego-strength?

Do you still plan to publish your victory?asked the commanding Null.

Why not? Aqravs smile was cold and vicious. It will encourage the Hooded Mans foes anddismay His friends.

Every available Lightchild in the Ring of Stars, starting with the Girl Named after the Moon, willcome looking for you.

Thats the general idea. Im really looking forward to meeting the delectable Autumn HarvestSelene. And shell be awake when I do, if you catch my meaning.

Will not Starling Sky be jealous of you for such an assault?Said woman was a Mistress of theChalice, Aqravs co-pilot on theTenkillers Pride, and his current lover.

Aqrav grinned wickedly. Shell probably want to watch, and maybe to help.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alain Harper had not seen the sun, moon, or stars in the sky for days, weeks, months and maybeyears without count. When that horrible giant of a man had brought him to wherever he was, the giant hadfound many ways to roughhouse himtwice to the point of awakening something in the Lightchild thatAlain didnt understand but his captor obviously feared. The second time, Alain had been in a torturechamber, and when the tortures grew brutal and creative enough, the strange hidden power in Alain stirredagain. His right hand glowed brilliant white, and the giant immediately vanished. The shackles holdingAlain on the rack fell open, but then the power within him faded beyond recall.

Once Alain had escaped from the torture chamber, he wandered through an endless multi-leveledmaze of stone underground. All the while, wordless dirges, ugly insults, cries of pain and terror, and once

in a great while, the heart-rending sounds of the most intimate assaults tormented his ears. But most

disturbing of all were the cells he discovered, cells filled with seemingly senile Adamim and miserable but

conscious Levanim. The Levanim, stripped of all their native dignity if not also their clothing, cried out to

him as he passed their cells:

Help us, Undying Singer! Help us! Set us free from the Usurpers power!

I dont understand! Alain cried back in frustration as he grabbed the bars in front of one of thecells.Who are you talking to?

Remember, and we will remember!

There was nothing to be done. Alain lacked the strength to break the locks or bend the bars of thecells holding the prisoners secure. For no reason he could namebeyond pity for the prisoners, ofcoursehe was deeply vexed by this. The locks and bars were made of alloy tougher than any steel, andhe was but flesh and blood but once upon a time, bothfacts wouldve been completely irrelevant to him.

Whenandwhy?

Eventually, Alain found his way out of the maze and onto the surface of wherever he was. But even

there the sun never rose, the moon never shone and the clouds never parted. And endlessly the scenes of

darkness changed as he walked, not needing food or drink or sleep, yet ever hungry, thirsty and tired

There was a dark, unmarked road, smooth yet beginning nowhere and ending nowhere, leading


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endlessly over hills, through valleys and between late-autumn forests of trees so thick with thorny

undergrowth that no one on two legs had a chance of passing through them

There was a howling cold waste where no aurora ever came, where the winds were bitter and

stinging and every step not blocked by jagged uplifts of ice was made treacherous by snow-covered

crevices. Alain somehow avoided them by an inner compass he didnt understand

There was a ruined city, once a proud site of high-tech living, where tall, dark-skinned warriors inblack robes, armed with long, curved swords, surrounded and attacked the lost and weaponlessBlademaster. His skill and determination overcame them despite the wounds he suffered in battle, butwhen he took up one of their fallen weapons for his later use, it crumbled to dust in his hands. All the otherswords crumbled at the same time on the ground and vanished in smoke. His wounds healed at once, buthe remained unarmed

There was a desert uglier and more desolate than any he had seen on any world he had ever visited

in real life, whether the real-life world had breathable air or not. This illusionary desert could only be seen

because of the pits of bubbling, fuming red lava scattered all over its surface

And these were themildencounters.

There were times when some town or village lay in his path, and he drew near it for shelter, only to

find things going on in the dark or in lighted halls that bore no telling. Alain turned away, somehow, to

wander yet further in the darkness

They say its a shame even to speak of what some people do in secretwhoever theyare that say

it. But here, wherever hereis, people do itopenly and they invite me to join them.

Yes, what they do disgusts me. But if only I could remember who taught me I shouldnt join them. If

only.

The loneliness was the worst thing. If Alain resisted whatever obstacle he facedand he always

didthen sooner or later it retreated. Even in his straits, Alain was a quick study and learned the lesson

well, and so he never stopped overcoming whatever trial he faced at any time. But the loneliness couldn t

be overcome, only endured, and there was no end of it in sight. It hit Alain the Nefi at his most vulnerable

psychological point and little by little, it robbed him of faith and hope and love.

On top of everything else, or rather at the root of everything else, Alain Harper had forgotten how

to singforgotten every song he knew as well, sacred or secular.

There came at last a night in which Alain wandered down a path of dirt and stones on the spine of aridge: a night in which a full moon shone, a moon that seemed familiar and yet like none Alain had ever

seen in the Metacosmic Realms. Its light illuminated ancient rolling hills, giving the landscape the illusion

of going on forever in all directions

About half a mile north, just off the road to the east, was a campfire, and men were sitting around

it, talking quietly. The weather was chilly, for it was still very near the spring equinox the first true full

moon of spring was still a lunar month away.

Without Cloak, Starblade, rings, or Sentrynone of which he remembered owningAlain felt

naked under the achingly lovely sky, and strangely ashamed to approach the men even in the shirt, pants,belt and boots he wore. Each mans clothingAlain counted thirteen men around the campfireconsistedof a turban, an outer cloak, an inner shirt, a loincloth not obviously visible, and sandals. How Alain knewall five pieces of clothing should be present went beyond guesswork, beyond even mere practicality. Hesimplyknew. It was like the certain knowledge that one might have about the meaning of something in an


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otherwise mysterious dream.

The ensemble surely was the clothing of common travelers, but something about those who wore it

reminded Alain of a training class for Lightchildrennot that he remembered, even then, exactly what

Lightchildren were, or just how they were trained

Are you lost, friend?said one of the men. He spoke a language like Adamic, but strangely

different in its details, and yet Alain understood it.

Let me speak to him, Shimon,said another man in pure Codex Adamic while gesturing for theothers to remain where they were. He rose and walked toward the road, indicating Alain to follow. TheLightchild did, silently.

What are you looking for, friend?asked the man when they were well away from the others. Hecontinued to speak not in his usual vernacular tongue, but in the Adamic used by many a religious teacherof his place and time, and Alain somehow knew it.

I wish I knew, Alain replied honestly in Adamic.Do you know where I am?

We stand on a world you once knew, but long before you were born on it. Here and now, I myselfam not long for this world.The man chuckled. Truth to tell, I and my disciples never experienced thisexact situation in these hills at this time. But we arewanderers at the moment, as you are.He sighed andsmiled gently. Foxes have holes, and all that.

Alain, leaving aside the strange space-time and literary referents for the moment, frowned and

clenched his fists. Is that horrible man trying to kill you too?

What horrible man?Now the man spoke in his vernacular: like Adamic, and yet unlike.

That giant who sent me wandering in the dark, Alain replied in the same language, even as partof him wondered how he could do so. The one whos tormented or else perverted everyone Ive ever methere until now. I never even learned his name.

Aqrav Hadrurus,the man replied, and there was a quiet anger in his voice to match Alains ownvehemence. Both names mean scorpionmore or less, in the case of Hadrurus. He has another epithetin what you call Common: Tenkiller. In your place and time he killed ten of his fellow Archons in theGreat Rebellionand Archons are by no means easy to kill.

Alains eyes grew wide as some part of him perceived the mystery of the man standing before him.Whoareyou?he exclaimed.

Aqrav the Scorpion thinks he can take you from my hand,the man went on in Common. Hecouldnotbe more wrong. No one can take you from my hand unless you allow it. No one. And I knowbetter than to think you wouldeverallow it, old friend you overcame far worse than a Hostile Archonwhen you lived on this world. When you remember what you once were, and what you are now, and whatmy Father and I are forevermore as well, then what Aqrav has done to you in your Shadow will be of noconsequence at all.

Then who amI? Alain asked in Common.

In the New Heavens and New Earth, you areMikhael ben-Avramthe Undying Singer,the man

replied warmly, just as My Father and I areYehawwehthe Undying Song.

In the next instant, both men were clothed with charcoal-gray hooded robes, swords and scabbards

all other clothes were identical as well. The only difference was that the Hooded Manfor now Alain


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knew Him and could barely restrain the urge to prostrate himself out of sheer reverence and joywore a

ring on His right fourth finger bearing the Aleph-Tau Glyph rather than the Catalysts Glyph marking

Alains LocusRing.

You can master your dreams or you can let your dreams master you,said the Hooded Man as Heand His clothing glowed brighter and brighter and His voice grew stronger and stronger. This is the secretof the Imagery of Dreams, in which Aqrav has set you wandering. But by My Light in you, you can masterthis dark dream. Awake now,Mikhael ben-Avram, andremember who you are!

Without warning, the Hooded Man vanished, and the men and the campfire in the distance with

Him.

Alain looked at his clothing: his Cloak of Shadow, his underlying uniform, his LocusRing, his

wedding band, and the strap holding his sword in place. In wonder he drew his sword and looked at the

writing on its fullers. The letters gleamed like fire in their own light, just as the rest of the transparent

blade caught the moonlight and reflected it back in pale rainbows. At a mental command the blade shone

forth with a blinding radiance, as if composed of pure white light the same light now shone from the skin

of Alains right hand as he gripped the hilt of the Starblade.

Shalhevetyah: Flame of the Eternal. How did Aqrav overcome a weapon of such power?

In the very asking, Alain knew the answer and it ashamed him bitterly.

You are not given to false modesty, Master Alain, said a voice in his memory.Do not exercise it inmy ruling presence now it does not become you.

Neither does true egotism, milady Steward.

Which, I gather, many have accused you of having?

Itdoesseem to be an occupational hazard, milady.

The Undying Singer swallowed hard, and his eyes stung with tears. But false modesty is as muchegotism as self-exaltation. And I have the right to exercise neither. It is the Lord who judges me. Thanks tothose months of stress in Freeland, I forgot that, and so I left myself wide open to an attack from the depthsof the Shadow.

The more Alain thought about what happened, the angrier at himself he got. In the First Realm, the

New Heavens and New Earth, he was beyond temptation, beyond error. In the form he took in the

Metacosmic Realms, he was neither. He erred far less than most Adamim or even most Lightchildren for,like John the Baptist of old, hed had the White Hand from his mothers womb but he was still far from

infallible.

Well, Lord, Youve done it again. Every so often, You give me just enough rope to hang myself. This

was certainly one of those times.

As if in answer, the sky above Alain and in all directions to the horizon filled with fireballs. It was

like being at the business end of an incoming meteor shower, one mighty enough to destroy almost every

living thing on the world it struck.

Oh, no, youdont! Alain exclaimed as the Words of Command returned to his memory, and heraised his hands and wreathed them in dazzling white and blue light. Let there be Light! Banish the

Darkness!


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The pulse of Light combined with Healing exploded from the Lightchild, spread upward and from

horizon to horizon, and obliterated the fireballs. But this was far from the end, for the pulse also consumed

the earth beneath Alains feet, leaving him floating in space far from any sun. Only a bubble of air trapped

by Raphaels n-shields kept him breathing.

And now an impenetrable darkness started sucking the sky into its maw before Alains eyes. The

Ring of Stars, the countless galaxies beyond it, space, time, matter and energy both seen and unseenall

were being devoured by pitiless Death. In moments, Alain and Raphael would join them and be no more.

Remember, said a Voice, and a Pillar of Cloud and Fire that no form of Death could hope tovanquish stood between the Lightchild and the Darkness.

Alain touched the sigil of the Ark of the Covenant on the clasp of his cloak, andremembered.

In the name of Joshua Davidson, the Lord of the Realms,he cried as his clothes and his bodyexploded into star-bright glory, let there be Lightnow and forever!

Darkness turned into a negative print and shone like a young supernova, and in the very act, Death

died.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alain awoke and found himself flat on his back, looking straight into an overhead glow panel.

Tch,he muttered as he brought his left hand up to shield his eyes.

Relax for a few moments, young Adami,said a male voice. You will need those moments foryour spirit, soul and body to recover.

Alain groaned. Like nokidding,he muttered. I think I just had the grandmother of all baddreamsbut what anending! Whatis this place?

I do not know rightly. I only know my wife and I were drawn here, after wandering together fortime beyond reckoning. It seems to be a great machine designed for flight. We were able to enter when oneof its doors opened by some hidden agency we did not trigger.

Slowly, Alain sat up, climbed out of the chamber and leaned against it.That horrible, horrible

man,he said and shook his head. He showed up early in my dreams, but he finally fled when I resisted

enough. He mustve put me here, wherever here is.

Would he happen to be named Aqrav?

Yes! Alain exclaimed, and as he looked upon the tall, white-haired yet otherwise youthful-looking man standing before him, he saw the man was Levani in appearance, right down to the large,bright eyes and pertly pointed ears. He wore an ankle-length, seamless white robe and apparently notmuch else.

What is your name, Adami?

I have alotof namesand Iforgotevery last one of them, Alain added ruefully. I mean while

Aqrav had me wandering in my minds own Shadow. Usually, Im called Alain Harper the UndyingSinger, but Alain is just fine.

Is it now? I perceive you are touched by destiny, a very powerful one.


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Master Alain, then, if you must. I dont really care.Then he chuckled despite himself. Well, Iguess that proves Im recovering my sense of humor is.

And your sense of proportion with it, no doubt. What happened to your wife, Master Alain? Is shehere?

Alains right hand went reflexively to the wedding ring on his left hand as he perceived the loss of

the bond with Autumn that passed through it. At the same time, he perceived the loss of another bond, insome ways even deeper as it went right down to the bottom of his Nefi psyche.

Wheres Raphael?he exclaimed as he turned around. He spotted the inert crystal ball still lyingin the stasis chamber and exhaled in relief. With a glowing right hand, he picked up the sphere andcommanded, Raphael, reboot!

Light erupted from the center of the sphere for a moment as the meta-technological Sentry

reintegrated itself with every level of Alains personality.

Raphael Goldwing, Alain Harpers Sentry, online,said a lively baritone voice the Lightchild had

desperately missed.

Thank God!Now, go to Contact Lens Mode and give me a full status checkforbothof us.Begin with the relative levels of my Nine Gifts.

Acknowledged,said Raphael, and he displayed a bar graph on Alains corneas.

Not good,said Alain after a moment.From a certain point of view, at least.

What do you mean?said the tall man.

As far as my supernatural Gifts go, Im at default levels across the board. Whatever situation the Hooded

Mans allowed me to get stuck in, Hes expecting something other than brute force to get me out of it. And I know

what that means. Alain chuckled mirthlessly. Just what is He trying to teach me by putting me through all ofthis? Have I been so egotistical? Or is He really trying to teach some other egotist something?

The Hooded Man?Now the white-haired man frowned in perplexity. I should know who he is.

Do you remember whoyouare? Alain asked.

No. I remember I have a wife, and she remembers her husband, but we have forgotten our ownnames and each others namesThe sheer helplessness and confusion of that confession tore at Alainsheart.

Now that will stop, Alain replied in teary-eyed anger and stepped forward. Clutching the mansleft shoulder with his right hand, he put his left hand on the mans forehead. His right hand glowed whiteand his left hand glowed blue as he did so.

Youre overmatched, Scorpion, now I know how you tricked me,he spoke to some hiddenpresence in the mans mind, more angrily than ever. Leave, now, in the Lord Joshua Davidsons name!

The white-haired man cried out in agony as the full available power of Alains Gift of Healing

drove out the illusion holding his mind captive.

The healing took only a moment. When it was done, Alain stood back and looked at the man in

wonder. The man staggered back on his heels, but recovered almost immediately.


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Youre a Folk Father, Alain exclaimed. How come I didnt perceive this?

Yes, I am a second-generation Archon, and a Folk Father. But Aqrav could overcome evenmehow much more could he hide my true nature from you and me alike, before you healed me?

Whois Aqrav? Aside from being an Illusionist and a Shadow Master, of course.

He called himself Aqrav Tenkiller as well: one of the many incestuous children of NicholasBlackthorn and his daughter Callista Brandywine.

Alain scoffed. No wonder Ive never heard of him. Old Nick used people shamelessly, in and outof his family, but he never told anybody a whole lot about his misadventures in breeding.

Speaking of breeding, you have spoken little of your own wife.

Despite his renewed concern for Autumn, Alain couldnt help but laugh among their friends andmany onlookers, their public displays of affection and what those displays hinted about their private liveswere almost legendary. There really was nothing quite like Nefi/Nefi love, was there?

Wherever she is, she can take care of herself in the Lords name shes a Lightchild. But shes gotto be worried, if not actually frightened for my sake. And I dare not think right now about how much Ivemissed her,he added with a soft moan. What in the Realms couldve broken the bond between us? Wait.Where is this place?

Your wife apparently is not present within it, if I take your meaning rightly. Come and I will showyou where we are.

You havent even told me who you are yet

I am Phedali Arondir, the rightful Hegemon of Aetalnor, and my lifemate is Briatynne Arondir,my co-regent. Briatynne is resting on the bridge of this ship. It is a fairly long walk

You were saying?

Phedali looked around and nodded Alains LocusRing had brought them instantaneously to the

bridge of the Warbird. Impressive. But that ability will do you little good here, unless you can extend it

beyond my wildest imagination. Briatynne is over there.

Alain shook his head as he went with Phedali forward to the white-haired woman resting in one ofthe command chairs. Im incredulous youve recovered so quickly from your own experiences. Even I

havent yet

We are the Folk Fathers of Levanim. Even the Scorpion, being more similar to Adamim than toLevanim in his archetype, could do only so much to us.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ive always wanted to see the inside of a Pocket,said Alain as he and the two Archons relaxedand talked on the bridge. Three chairs faced the main HUD projector, and they were sitting in them, withAlain on the left and the Arondirs to his right Phedali sat in the middle chair. Alain was drinking a cup ofchicken broth which hed prepared in Raphaels own otherspace closet the Archons needed no such

refreshment.

But you never thought you would be imprisoned within one,Phedali replied.


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No indeed. How did you two get imprisoned here?

From what you have told us about galactic history, it seems the Pockets were being prepared evenduring the Great Rebellion, as a backup in case the Rebellion failed. Four thousand Standard Years later,the Pockets spat out the Warbirds growing on the Pockets surfaces by the billions of billions. I still find itdifficult to comprehend that the Hooded Man would use a mereAdami, evenyou, to overcome such astaggering force.

Part of the secret is that I really dont understand the scale of what Im fighting, once it gets sobig. To me one targets the same as another when the Need of the Hour demands I act against it. And itreally doesnt feel any different when I do. Plus, I figure the Lord knows whats going on and I can justfollow orders accordingly. So I dont get any ego-kicks out of wielding the White Hand at that level.

Most interesting. But Nicholas sent Aqrav to capture us when we came to fight on the Lords side,and Aqrav put us here, in a Pocket not being used. Of course, none of them were growing Warbirds, then,but this one still could very easilyhence the integration ofthisWarbird into the Pockets surface, as yourRaphael has learned. But I suppose Nicholas believed one Pocket could be spared as a prison.

Its a most effective prison. Nothing less than my dying and being resurrected, and gaining the

White Hand Without Measure at Need thereby, could enable me to break its lock from the inside. And Icant just go out there and commit instant suicide in order to gain that kind of power.

No, you cannot that would violate our Lords own law. We only survived out there because weare Archons and this Warbird is the only shelter on a featureless surface area equal to that of hundreds ofmillions of natural worlds.

Alain looked up through the huge canopy covering the top deck of the multi-level bridge. Thecanopy was designed to polarize and to darken when incoming light or other radiation of sufficientintensity hit it. The blazing accretion disk surrounding the hidden singularity, those two jets emerging fromits center, and the stream of gas coming in from somewhere outside the Pocket into it, all were glowing

with intense visible light and that wasnt even counting the emission of high-energy photons, themagnetic field that had an energy density thousands of times greater than lead, and the warping of space-time itself

Were it not for the canopy and the Warbirds other hyper-tech defenses, nothing organic could liveeven on the bridge in the face of allthat.

Wheres the source of the incoming gas stream? There has to be a star, abig one, out theresomewhere. Raphael, could we fly this Warbird through that stream and get out that way?

Master Alain, even if we could learn how to get past this ships defenses and anti-tampering

protocols, and even if I could manage to fly the ship with your aid, and even if we could survive the flightthrough the oncoming stream of gas, that gas is not coming from our own Realm.Raphael put up adisplay pane to illustrate his point. From what you asked me to observe, it is clear that the physical lawsoperating in the stars Realm are not identical to those of our own, although the difference objectively isslight. The most likely conclusion from the observed data and the equations explaining the data is that thestar exists in the Nulls native Realm, where n-crystals are the predominant life form.

Hm. Yes. A construct built with Null labor and for a Null-favoring agenda of conquest would beempowered by a source in the Nulls home Realm. And we dont have a Portal of Twilight going into thatRealm, do we?

No. So we could not return to our own Covenant Realm by that means. We would be trapped in anundoubtedly hostile Realm, as much so as we are trapped here.

So what do we do?Briatynne asked. Aside from prayer, of course?


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You are hiding something from us about this matter, Master Alain,said Phedali knowingly.

He is indeed,Raphael affirmed. And so am I. I know how he thinks.

Alain nearly spilled the last of his broth as he bent over in his chair with laughter. I never did havemuch of what we call a poker face,he said at last. The chief difficulty is how fast this Pocket has beenaging compared to the Covenant Realm outside of it. Getting out of here isnt a problem anymore, and

neither is our destination once we do. Its when we reappear in the Covenant Realm that

ll be theinteresting part.

What?!the Folk Fathers exclaimed together.

I dont suppose you ever heard of the old idiom, god from a machine? No? Well, let me put it toyou this way. One of the biggest frustrations my enemies face is that, thanks to Raphael, I can simplysidestep just about every trick in the book they can throw at me, one way or another. Aqrav must knowRaphael helps the Lord help me come back from the dead in three Standard Days, Ge timenot that itsall that easy to kill me! I call the ability the Sign of Resurrection all my enemies know all too much aboutthat. Its why Aqrav locked me away unconscious but alive and made sure Raphael was with me. He didnt

want any chance of the Sign giving me a straight shot back into the Covenant Realm

which mightvehappened, had Raphael been left there. But Im absolutely sure Aqrav has no idea of something else

Raphael can dosimply because I havent used the ability for anything like our present need before.

What did you use it for before?Briatynne asked.

Picking up something in my voice, arent you? Well, it does touch my heart. I use it to meet withAutumn as often as we can manage itespecially when shes working in the Covenant Realm and Imworking in another. We couldnt keep our marriage alive, otherwise, not even through the telepathiccontact our wedding rings give us. But I have to take the initiative and bring her to me. We can t work itthe other way around Raphael isnt designed for that.

I think I speak for us both,said Phedali, when I say I am more perplexed than ever.

If you follow me into Raphaels closet when I deal with this cup, Ill show you what Im talkingabout. If theres anything you want to bring with you when we go homeactually, wecoulddosomething before we do, over the next several days, if youre both willing.

Say on,said Briatynne. Phedali nodded.

During the Locust Plague War, our Deep Space Service fought untold numbers of these ships, yetwe never captured one or got really useful intelligence on one. If the ships computers dont completely

lock us out, we could bring back some really useful intelligence on a Warbird

and we could bring backsome physical samples, too. Oh, and we could have Raphael photograph everything, and scan everything.It would take time, but Im willing to take the risk of getting home further out of time than we mightotherwise.

Agreed,said Phedali, and this time Briatynne nodded. What you say makes sense. We havewaited this long to escapeif you really can bring us all out of here, then we might as well profit from theimprisonment.

As I said,whetherwe get out of here isnt the problemnow Im awake and joined with Raphael,that is. Youll see.

* * * * * * * * * *

When they had learned all they could from the Warbirdwhich took a busy subjective


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weekAlain put on his Cloak of Shadow and all his tools, and the Hegemons put on the magnificent yet

graceful robes the Warbird had synthesized for them. Even King Solomon in all his glory couldnt match

the array of a lily of the field in his homeland, but these were Folk Fathers of the Levanim. Simply to look

upon them was to be tempted to worship them, unless one was a Lightchild and touched by a Power

beyond even an angels grasp.

All right, Raphael,said Alain simply, open your closet and lets go home.

Your ultimate ace in the hole,Phedali remarked wryly. I will be most interested to have a lookat it again.

Yes, Alain replied with a broad grin. So long as Raphael was inactive, the Pocket and theCovenant Realm were out of temporal sync by the Hooded Man alone knew what ratio. But once Raphaelhad rebooted, the inside of his closet was put back in sync automatically with the Covenant Realm, whichmeant that his outside and the entire Pocket with it was put in sync with the Covenant Realm as well.

The apartment inside the closet was beautiful and well-fitted for a Nefis enjoyment, and in the

bedroom, there was a sliding door. At Alains command, it became transparent. It looked out at a forest,

but not a forest on Ge indeed, the forest was illuminated by what Alain estimated to be nothing less thanGe in full phase. Such times were Alains favorite times to visit Selene, but

The Earthlight Gardens have changed drastically, Alain exclaimed as he looked out the door.Those arent even the sametreesIm used to seeing. Raphael, have you reset your clock yet?

Evidently I cannot reset thequasi-absolutetime on my clock until we actually enter the CovenantRealm. You may open the door at your discretion.

You dont need to tell me twice,said Alain with a mixture of eagerness and concern as he tookhold of the latch on the door.

It surely seemed strange to the few Lightchildren who were nearby to see a sliding door appear and

then open in midair and three humanoids walk through it. But the Earthlight Gardens were the heart and

soul of the Lightchild Diaspora in the Covenant Realm, and while other Sentries didnt have such doors as

Raphael did, the nearby Lightchildren were familiar with what would allow such doors to exist and to

work.

Once Alain and the Hegemons were in the Gardens and Alain had shut the door, the door collapsed

and became a floating crystal ball. I have come with you without difficulty, as predicted,said Raphael.

So when are we?

said Alain as he looked around.

Stand by. Re-establishing links with the Nexus and with my fellow Sentries.

In Alains day, the Earthlight Gardens filled a crater some fifty miles wide, very much likeCopernicus Crater of Old First Realm Earths own Moon. A hemispherical dome covered the entirety ofthe Gardens, and there was air, water, trees imported from Grrakh and growing up to a thousand feet high,and many trees and other plants imported from Ge as well. All plants and animals thrived in the soil, lowgravity and diurnal cycle in the Gardens, whether thanks to special adaptations of their genetics andepigenetics by the Hooded Man or thanks to technological aids such as brilliant lights used during thenight that ruled for two weeks and more in a row. And the Lightchildren loved to come there to live, to

work, to direct their operations through the rest of known space, or simply to visit.

But now the great dome was gone, replaced by something far greater. Raphael displayed an

explanation on a pane for his companions: a ward now surrounded the entirety of Selene, the moon had


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been completely terraformed, and the meta-tech helping sustain life on its surfacejust from what could

be seen hanging in spacewas spectacular.

Sentries all over the Ring of Stars and all over Selene, and in particular in the immediate

neighborhood, registered the presence of Raphael and his Bondmate and announced it to their own

Bondmates, and as many nearby as could do so headed toward Alain and his companions. Some within

visual range were actually running toward them, or bouncing rather given the low gravity.

I say again,said Alain to Raphael,when are we?!

You are already in shock

Not worse than Im going to be if you dont answer me!

Know this first: the Node Field has expanded to encompass the entire Ring of Stars and many starsystems outside the barred spiral proper,Raphael replied. We are in Standard Year 103,959, almost ahundred millennia after you were born in the Covenant Realm.

And incredibly, you are still remembered,said Briatynne. Hear how they call to you?

Before Alain could answer, he had another shock. Within the same Realm, but across a vast abyss

of space and time, Autumn spoke through Alains wedding ring, her voice sounding inside his head:

Alain, love, wherewhen are you?!

* * * * * * * * * *

Johanan Rakkav is the Hebrew pen name (anglicized King James Version-style) of a very busy Ne fi(ENFP on the Myers-Briggs grid). Besides being a consultant in Christian apologetics, he is the editor and

co-publisher of the book THE MUSIC OF THE BIBLE REVEALED by the late Suzanne Hak-Vantoura(rakkav.com/biblemusic), a singer-songwriter who plays the piano, synthesizer, Celtic harp and ten-stringed Hebrew lyre (kinnor), a lifelong lover of the natural sciences (especially astronomy) and ofspeculative fiction, an enthusiast of personality type models, and (as Jack Shepherd) the co-author of themedieval fantasy/allegorical SF book REALMWALKERS (tiaera.blogspot.com). His fictionalMetacosmos is featured on several Web sites (chiefly rakkav.blogspot.com).


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OVERHAUL

By Josh Strnad

"How bad is it?" I tried to look down to see inside the opening, but couldn't bend my neck enough

to get a good look without the aid of a mirror. Not that I'd have been able to make much sense of what was

going on in there if I had been able to see. It wouldve looked like a jumble of more-or-less unidentifiable

parts. I'm not what you would call mechanically inclined. Funny thing for a robot to admit, I know, but

that's just the way I was built.

The Mechanic prodded a grease-stained finger inside my chest, holding a little flashlight up so he

could see. "It's your heart giving you the trouble."

I nodded in sage agreement, glad he mentioned a part whose name I recognized. "Ah, yes." I

leaned back on the workbench and rested my hand on the panel that the Mechanic had removed from the

front of my torso. "I thought that would be the case. It doesn't seem to be working quite the way it ought,

these days. Sometimes I think it's broken."

The Mechanic grunted again. "Broken, nothing," he said. "Your heart is a wreck, and it's allgummed up to boot. It's a wonder the thing is ticking at all in this condition." He looked up to meet my

gaze, his brow furrowed with concern. "How long have you known about this?"

I looked over at the wall, wondering whether I should lie or tell the truth. The truth could help him

gauge the severity of the damage, but a lie would make me look less like a procrastinating fool. "Just last

week," I told him.

He shook his head and gave me a knowing smile. "No. This has been going on for far more than

the past week. The layers of dirt buildup alone prove your problem goes back a long time, probably to the

very day you were manufactured." He wasn't gullible, that's for sure. I shouldve known better than to try

to pull one over on him. He did design me, after all. He pushed aside a tangle of wires for a better lookinside. "Hey, there. What's this?"

"What's what?" I knew the answer as soon as I saw the fine stream of oil squirt out in an arc from

my open torso and splash onto the Mechanic's coveralls. He sputtered and held up a hand to shield

himself. Quick as thought, he fumbled around my chest cavity and turned the correct valve to stop the

flow.

"This." He held up a filthy strip of masking tape.

I tried to come up with a good answer, failed, and chose to sit in dumb silence. I figured the

question was rhetorical, anyway.

"What it looks like to me," the Mechanic wiped the tape on his sleeve, then held it up to the light,

"is a shoddy attempt at a patch." He raised his eyebrows. "Did you do this?"

"Well..." I trailed off, not wanting to make him angry but knowing he wouldn't like my answer.

"Sort of."

Thats me: Mr. Smooth.

He was digging around in my chest again, this time with both hands, flashlight tucked behind his

ear like a pencil. He muttered to himself as he did so. "Oh, my. This is bad. This is even worse than I

thought." Not the sort of thing one wants to hear from his Mechanic.

The next time he brought his hands out, he held three more pieces of tape, a rubber band, a bent

paper clip, and a wad of what could only be identified as old chewing gum. He held them all up for me to

see. "There's almost more patchwork in here than heart!"


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I pasted on a weak smile. I made do with what I had." I tried to sound brave and noble instead of

stupid and irresponsible. "I've always been kind of a do-it-myself type guy." He didn't look like he was

buying it, so I thought I'd bolster my defense. "You know, I read a book about heart repair, once. It broke

everything down into five easy steps."

The Mechanic frowned at me. "Don't you realize how dangerous your situation has been?" His tone

wasn't accusatory genuine concern filled his voice. "Not one of those patches did the slightest bit of good

in fixing your heart's problem, and several of them actually caused extra damage." He tossed the handful

of rubbish into the waste bin at the side of the workbench. He sighed and wiped his forehead, leaving a

dirty smear above his left eyebrow. Then he asked the question I'd been hoping he wouldn't since the

moment I'd stepped into his workshop. "Why didn't you come to me sooner?"

It may sound strange that I didn't have a good answer for him. I should have, I know. We robots

like to pride ourselves on our superior logic processing ability, but a lot of it is bluff and bluster.

Sometimes, if we're willing to admit it, we are just plain clueless.

"You knew I was here." The Mechanic spread his hands the way a stage magician does after he

appears in a cloud of smoke. "What kept you away?"

Unable to maintain eye contact, I stared at the pegboard on the other wall, looking past the toolshanging on it and focusing on the perfect, straight lines of little holes. I sat for a moment that stretched into

an eternity, mentally tracing along those lines, connecting them into angular geometric shapes like the

worlds easiest dot-to-dot puzzle. When I did speak, my voice came out sounding quiet and weak, like the

hollow creak of rusty hinges. "I don't know," I said, and it was the truth. "I was careless. I was scared. I

was arrogant. Besides, I could always get around to it later. I had every reason to stay away... I had no

reason at all."

The Mechanic nodded, never taking his eyes off my face. "You know, I couldve designed you to

self-repair. I couldve built you to be indestructible, made you entirely self-sufficient. Do you know why I

didn't?"

I shook my head. He smiled. "Because I want you to come to me. I made you breakable because I

want to repair you. I made you needy so I can have the chance to give you everything you need. Try as you

might, you can't fix yourself. That's my job."

I brightened a bit. "So you can fix my heart?"

The Mechanic furrowed his brow. "You need more than a basic repair. You need a complete

overhaul. You don't need your heart fixed you need a new one entirely." He smiled again, and winked.

"You happen to be in luck, though. I always keep a few spares here at my workshop for just such an

occasion. I've got one right here." He pulled a small cardboard box from his back pocket and opened it for

me to see. Sure enough, inside rested a shiny, new heart."Alright!" Relieved, I leaned back on my hands to allow him easy access to my chest. "Sounds

good. Hook me up." The mechanic hesitated, holding the clean heart in his palm. It glinted like silver in

the lamplight. "Well?" I sat back up. "Go ahead."

He shook his head. "There's still the matter of your old heart."

"What about it?"

"I can't take it," he said. I goggled at him. "Another part of my design for you," he went on. "I can't

just swap any heart out. I need you to give me your old one yourself. It's protocol."

"You're kidding," I blurted, even though I could tell he was doing nothing of the sort. "You want

me to yank my own heart out and give it to you?"

He nodded. "That's the idea, yeah."


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"What happens if I break down altogether? I can't exactly survive without a heart, you know. This

isnt Oz, and Im no tin woodman."

The Mechanic shrugged. "You'll just have to trust me."

Trust. Another thing I've never been much good at. I don't think it's hard-wired into us with our

original programming. Every robot is manufactured with a basic morality chip and a logical analysis

system, but I think trust is something we need to learn over time. It doesn't come natural to us because it's

not always based on strict logic.

I looked at the Mechanic. He raised his eyebrows and rolled the heart around in his hand. "What

happens if I decide not to?" I asked.

The Mechanic sighed and shrugged. "You can keep carrying that old broken heart around if you

really want. I won't force anything on you. The choice is yours, of course. But I cannot give you a new

heart unless you give yours to me first."

I nodded. I reached up to my chest and brushed past gears, wires, and pistons to find my heart. I

wrapped my fingers around it, feeling its size, its weight, the grime and sludge leaking out from its

cracked surface. I looked up at the Mechanic. He nodded once, slowly.

Trust me.

Our lives are made up of moments, and sometimes its hard to tell the significance of a single one

until years after the fact. If you ask me today why I trusted him then, Im not sure I could tell you the

answer, except that Im very glad I did. My old heart was a time bomb. It would have killed me anyway,

sooner or later, so what did I really have to lose? I knew I couldn't repair it on my own. The Mechanic was

my only hope.

I didnt have all the answers. I still dont. It didnt matter. I knew what I had to do. Squeezing my

eyes shut, I tightened my grip on my heart and pulled.

***

Josh Strnad is a small-town guy from North Carolina, an oldies rock-and-roll nut, a juggler, and a

thoroughly medeocre cook. When not guzzling hot tea and typing stories on his battered desktop

computer, he dabbles in film making, writing music, and drawing cartoons. He's currently working his way

through graduate studies to become a high school English teacher, writing his second novel and illustrating

his children's book in his copious spare time. Check him out on Facebook, or at www.joshstrnad.com.


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21/25

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Animal Heaven

By Frank Creed

Ordinary riches can be stolen real riches cannot. In your soul are infinitely precious things that

cannot be taken from you.~ Oscar Wilde

Autumns bark and branch fingers raked the Indiana skyline on our country drive. Getting a new

pet is exciting so the twenty-minute trip seemed twice as long. An occasional mailbox-on-a-post or two

marked the houses lining this rural road of stubbled cornfields. Our tires crunched gravel when my wife

and I pulled into the driveway of my co-workers newly-built brick home, and I killed the engine. The

overhead garage door stood open a foot and a few black and white cats peered out. We approached the

front porch, passing a dirt lawn with freshly planted bushes and saplings.

Lynn opened at my knock. Hi! Steve. Cheryl. Come on in, hes in the garage.She led us through

the house. A tuxedo cat lounged inside while four more greeted us in the garage.Its the grey one. Like I

said, hes not in great shape. He appeared last week and started hanging out with our crew, eating theirfood.

The grey cat walked right up to me, tail at twelve oclock, friendly enough, but I hesitated to touch

him. His fur matted with mud and both eyes leaked clear fluid. One of his ears was cocked, like a birth

defect but he wore it well, at a rakish angle. You could see his ribs. This pet would be an investment. I

sighed.

Hey there.Cheryl picked him up and his legs flailed.

Every middle-aged couple needs at least one kitty,said Lynn. Too many kitties without homes.

Im glad this one found you two.

* * *

My life revolved around the two Sundays each fall when the Packers played the Bears. This was

one of those weekends. By the time I got in front of the TV, Brett Favre had already thrown two

touchdowns and Green Bay had a ten-point lead. My coffee table set with chips, salsa, pretzels, and a jar

of olives. The grey cat jumped up on the sofa and stretched out on my lap. We had named him Kot because

everyone remarked that he looked like a Russian Blue and Kot is the Russian word for cat. I sipped my

mug of lukewarm java.

The Bears kicked a field-goal as Cheryl entered carrying a grocery sack. Hi honey. Game on, I

see. And you even have your friend to watch with you.

Game on. And Im gettin used to this one bein in my way all the time.

She walked past the sofa. The sunlight just shines off that blue fur. He sure cleaned up well.

I stroked him. Good thing, too, as much as hes on me. Doesnt even look like the same animal

we picked up.I couldnt use the sofa without the little guy joining me, purring like a motor. Every

bedtime he sat on me to have a bath. Hey, I never noticed this before. Hes got a tiny white tuft of fur on

his chest.

Cheryl was the daughter of a dairy farmer and had lived the ways of the country. I bet I know

what happened. Between that crooked ear and flaw in his coat, some breeder dumped a litter of inbredkittens for the farmers to take care of. Sad kitty. Nobody wanted him.

* * *


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I hated moving across town let alone to the West Coast but the world s wheels turn on dollars, and

we had to follow Cheryls well-paying job. The rental truck sat empty in the driveway. My back throbbed

but all our cartons and furniture were inside. I showered off the summer sweat and brushed my teeth at the

sink, enjoying the breeze of a box fan that rattled slightly, glad the long day was done and I could finally

sleep.

The move had been tough on our little family. We had no children but did have seven cats by now.

Moving so many at once all the way across the country had not been an option and we had to make a

special trip two months before to deliver half our broodincluding Kotto relatives who volunteered to

help. We had just gotten all our felines back this morning, and trying to unload the moving truck with Kot

underfootunder my feetwas a joke. Kitty Kot, always in the way.Id barked at him from around a

stack of boxes. Get out of my way!I had to close him up in the bathroom until we had finished with the

moving van.

I rinsed the toothpaste and spit as my purebred kitty rubbed on my ankles. We had learned he was

called a Chartreux Blue.

Cheryl scrolled Facebook in the den, not yet ready for sleep. Wearing only my skivvies, I crawled

to bed and settled on my stomach. The Kitty Kot jumped on the bed and stepped onto me. I usually

tolerated his bedtime bath sessions but tonight I just wanted sleep and almost shooed him away.

Kot walked up to my shoulder blades, sat on my bare back and yowled in a long meowing song.

I laughed as he carried on for a good ten seconds.

Cheryl rushed in, What is it?

I explained what he had done.

Aw, hes missed you for months. That cat really loves us for rescuing him, but hes taken to you.

She turned back to the den. And he probably thought hed lost you.

Kot head-butted my hand as I stroked him. Im back, Buddy. Its all right.

* * *

Honey, somethings wrong with Kitty Kot,called Cheryl from the sofa one night. I came in to

find him walking circles on the cushion next to her. I stood watching, waiting for whole minutes, but he

wouldnt stop. I sat and checked him over. His eyes kept rolling in the direction he had walked, and they

were wrong. One pupil was dilated wide, the other a narrow slit.

Oh-no!said Cheryl. I bet he had a stroke.

I sat up holding him all night, his head lolling in circles. It slowly dawned on me that he d have to

be put down. This was the last time I would get to hold my Kot. This was my goodbye. I held a small dish

of wet food so he could eat his last meal. I rubbed tears into his charcoal blue fur. I carried him to the litter

box a few times and he let me hold him still long enough to use it. Maybe I could care for a handicapped

cat. We would visit the vet tomorrow.

I said his name softly to him many times that night, hoping he could still hear me. The only time he

stopped his incessant turning was when his legs tangled and wrapped around one of my arms. Then he d

snuggle in. Then he would still and peacefully doze. But only for ten minutes at most before his head

lolled again.

The sun rose on Kot one last time. The emergency visit to the vet revealed a brain tumor. He was


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not suffering. Yet. But he would be soon. Kot finally stopped moving in my arms as he slipped into a

needles peaceful oblivion.

Those horribly unfocused eyes would haunt me, marring his face in my minds eye. It took six

months before I could get to sleep properly without missing his nightly preening. None of our other kitties

would warm my lap when we sat before the TV. Freaking brain-tumors.

* * *

I slipped my dentures into the glass I kept on the bathroom sink for their overnight soak, and

scratched at my white thinning scalp. My bones ached with the cold damp as I crossed the bedroom. I

lowered myself onto the bed, and tucked one leg at a time under the covers. Cheryl, often tired nowadays,

already dozed next to me. I slung one arm around her and drifted . . . Until I was awakened by a vivid

dream. What? My mind churned that one. I hovered near the ceiling, looking down at us in bed, three of

our cats snuggling us.

Youre in the ethereal plane now.There, floating next to me, was an angel. Dont ask me how I

knew what he washe had no wings, no feathers. He appeared as a big human, had a spark in his eye, and

wore a simple white robe with a matching sash. Cheryl cant sense us,he said.

So, whats happening?I asked, fearing the answer.

Massive heart attack. You have passed-on as they saypassed out of the equation. Were en route

to your binary destination.

What?I managed to say.

You know, Heaven or Hell. Your whole universe is actually a living thinking machine that

processes any experience of life that generates freely given love. Its working out a free-will equation.

Youve been part of itall living things are.

Equation. Right.

Thoughts and emotions are received or read on a sub-atomic level. Your universe also records

your journey to Heaven or Hell like binary code.

Im dead. It would take time for that to sink in. I certainly didnt feel dead. All right. I think Im

headed for Heaven.

Most do. Everyone is unique and only you can make the journey.

I rolled my neck at the usual pain but it was gone. I felt none of the usual stiffness.

We have a stop to make. Follow me.The angel turned.

What? No. Cheryl . . .I looked down to her.

I am forbidden to speak of your destination before we arrive, but I am permitted to tell you you ll

be with your wife again. Outside of linear time, in eternity.The angel beamed a kind smile.

I moved close to Cheryls face and kissed her. My Sweetie,I whispered. Well be together. Our

love will stand.I fought tears. Were old nowwe wont be apart long.I studied her blissfully unaware

features a long time, bidding her one last good rest. Then I cleared my throat. Hey, Angel of Death, can

you give her soul extra rest as she grieves?

I can and I will.

Okay.I sighed and kissed her one last time. Then Im ready. Ill follow you now.

I expected we would levitate upward, through the roof and into the moonlit sky like Casper, but all

I could sense was moving away. Away from everything I knew. No breeze on my skin. Shooting off


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through the void of space, we moved so fast stars streaked in my vision and then blurred colorless.

And then we were standing. On grass. Rolling meadow and forest gurgled with the flow of a

stream. Here and there animals, mostly the domesticated kind, sunned themselves and chased after each

other. A monkey called to us before scampering up a tree.

Where are we?

I asked.A cosmic waiting room of sorts. Come. We must walk. But in silence.

And I did. The sun shone and it was a beautiful day. The animals would come close to us, but when

I reached out to pet them, they scampered away, barking, or meowing, or twittering. I couldn t track how

long we walked, but I did not tire. An elephant tugged leaves from a tree and stuffed them into its maw. I

drank from the stream and ate a sweet red fruit I plucked from a tree.

Boredom and impatience flickered in my soul when across a meadow a Chartreux Blue sprang

from a cedar thicket and walked toward us through the grasses. Hey,I pointed, I used to have a cat

exactly like that, but he had a crooked . . . ear . . .

This cat had a crooked earat a rakish angle.

The angel smiled again. Did you, now.

The thin charcoal blue animal walked in our direction, then stopped. His writhing tail froze at

twelve oclock. He gave a brief yowl. Id only heard that sound once but Id never forget it.

It didnt just look like my Kot. Sweet Jesus.

He raced toward me.

I gasped for breath. A sudden laugh burst uncontrolled from my deep in my throat, and my eyes

pooled. My mouth opened and closed before I called to himfor the first time in decades. I dropped to my

knees as he closed and leapt into my arms. His eyes are right again! I stood, mastering my emotions,

steadying my breath, and smiling the pure joy that only comes from love. I dried my wet cheeks on Kots

fur as he yowled in his own joy, like he did on my back that night so long ago. Laughter. But how?I

asked the angel. Its not possible! Animals have no souls.

But they do have spiritlike angels doand spirit cannot be destroyed. Animals that came to

love particular humans exist here in the Terrestrial section of what you would call Animal Heaven,

sustained by memories of the living. They suffer as they miss their humans, so it is more like Purgatory.

Their love is part of the equation and survives in eternity, just as your love for Cheryl has. Grace

has been extended through you. Animals piggy-back a souls binary journey. Freely given love is morethan the greatest good. It is far more powerful a thing than humans understand. It is the most important

part of the equation.

Kot head-butted my hand as I scratched the back of his neck.

That time you spent time caring for himwhen he interrupted you at the computerwhen you

could have been pursuing your own interests? Treasure in Heaven.

Buthe wasnt the only one . . . wasnt the only animal who loved me.

The angel smiled. Let us walk.


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Authors note: If in the afterlife I cannot find Pushak, Simon, Monroe, Mouser, Mister Blue, Kot, Molly,

Koda and Angst, Im gonna break things. Their love, an animals love, is honest, loyal, and accepting. Ill

take every second of love I can get in this world.

Frank Creed is a Christian science-fiction novelist, housecatter, and founder of the Lost Genre Guild (for

the promotion of Christian Speculative fiction). Read the full bio at frankcreed.com

the cross and the cosmos - issue 15

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